embarrassing incident
by kousi
Summary: The first time Chuck Bass saw me naked I was thirteen years old. It’s written in Blair’s POV. R


**A/N:** Here's a short one-shot. This story popped up in my head and I just needed to get it out of my system haha... =) Please tell me what you think of it!

Thanks to Abby, who beta'd this story.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Gossip Girl

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The first time Chuck Bass saw me naked I was thirteen years old.

It was a Saturday morning when I walked towards my bathroom to take a long, warm bath. I wasn't at school the day before (which never happens) because my mother insisted that I stay at home after she was aware what I did to myself behind the bathroom door. It had happened a few times before and I always tried to hide it so nobody would ever know, but she somehow found out. I protested, because no matter what, I didn't want to miss school, but on that day she acted really mother-likely and I couldn't change her opinion.

I locked the bathroom door and let the water run into the tub and it already beginning to bubble. All of my clothes were on the floor just a second later. I looked into the mirror, but what I saw didn't please me. There were a lot of things that I would have changed. A lot of people always told me that my body was enviable, but this always led me to think that they were trying to make a fool out of me. In my eyes there was nothing enviable about my body.

And that was the reason why I preferred to wear clothes that didn't accentuate my body, but still had class. If someone asked me why I always dressed so conservatively I stated simply, "Waldorf women pick their clothes wisely, they aren't sluts." That's what my mother told me once.

I let the thought go for that moment and went towards the filled tub. One of my feet already made contact with the pleasant warm water when I realized that my fresh underwear was still on a chair in my room. I took my foot out of the white porcelain tub and walked towards the door, not even putting a towel around me, nobody was there anyway.

How wrong was I? I stepped out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, when my gaze rested on my bed. I froze. Chuck Bass was lying there with crossed legs and his hands behind his head. His first reaction was a look of surprise to see me like that morphed into one of amusement, with his trademark smirk on his lips as he looked down at my breasts.

Oh my god! Every other man would have had the decency to stand up, apologize and walk out of the room, but of course he hadn't. And I, for my part, wasn't better. Instead of walking back and shutting the door behind me I just stared at him with widened eyes, before it registered in my mind how mortifying this situation was. That's when I rushed back into the bathroom and locked the door.

"Charles Bass, get out of my room. Now!" I commanded through the bathroom door. I heard him groaning. "Okay." He replied annoyed.

I sat on the toilet lid with my hands slightly trembling from the shock that this scene had caused. How could he walk into my room without any annunciation? Oh yes, right, he always did that.

It felt so wrong and I felt so embarrassed. The only man who should have seen me like that was Nate. But of course it was Chuck Bass, like it always was (seemingly accidentally). He was the one who got my first kiss at six, by turning his head, when I wanted to thank him with a kiss on his cheek for finding my brand new headband that my father bought me. He was the one who got my first French kiss, (well, he made a French kiss out of it) by playing spin the bottle. It was supposed to be just a peck, but he decided to plunge his tongue into my mouth and to my own surprise I returned the kiss, leaving Nate with widened eyes and a hanging jaw. His excuse for that was "Chuck Bass doesn't do pecks", but I knew better. Both times he received a slap in the face from me, but the thing that bothered me more than the kisses where that after the slaps his mischievous smirk didn't disappear.

And now, he, out of all men in this world, was the first one who'd seen me naked. I sighed and hoped that this was just a weird nightmare and I would wake up any minute, but unfortunately it wasn't, and I wouldn't.

The next school days will be awkward, I thought and I honestly was afraid of the upcoming days, thinking he might mention it in front of other people. The only logical thing I had to do was coming up with a plan. A plan to avoid him as much as possible.

So for the next few days I didn't speak with him or even look at him, but I always could feel his gaze on my skin, which followed me wherever I went.

After the successful week of avoiding Chuck passed, I was waiting for Serena outside the school. She was at the principals' office to discuss some things. Even then she was a little party girl, who didn't care what would happen with her future. I began to get annoyed that she was taking so long when I felt his hand above my ass and his hot breath against my neck. I shivered inwardly and my body stiffened, and answered his breath with goose bumps. My eyes closed automatically at the feeling that was rising in my stomach, but opened before he could notice. He brought his mouth to my ear.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Waldorf." His husky voice whispered.

My lips parted, my breath caught. My mouth was dry and all I could do was swallow, although I intended to answer with something smart. Then I realized what the words meant. He was speaking about my body. Seemingly, he knew about my little problem, but I couldn't explain how he found out. But then I remembered the day in school when I walked out of the girls' restroom after "it" happened and he had looked at me, almost concerned. So obviously he felt pity for me, I thought.

His hand slipped away from where it first was and he slowly walked backwards, away from me, with his gaze still on me, checking me out and letting me ponder for a second if he might have an x-ray view that would allow him to see everything again. He was Chuck Bass for a reason. His sentence still echoed through my head and my explanation as well. Pity. But his gaze told me something else; it made me believe that he really meant it, not because he felt sorry for me, but because of the truth in his eyes. The sparkle in his gaze, which showed me desire, though there was also restraint. I was still his best friend's girlfriend.

He turned around and walked away and it was then when I started to breathe again. I watched him walk away and noticed that my hand had reached out to the spot on my neck where his breath was just seconds before.

Neither of us mentioned the incident again and we were back to normal. He began to treat me like before and I had the feeling that he completely forgot about it.

But it changed me for a while. I hadn't the urge anymore to get rid of my food and I watched myself dressing more open and revealing more of my skin. And one day, when I wore a skirt that reached above my knees I saw his look of approval.

I was sure he thought that it was his profit that I felt so free and confident and maybe it was. So he received an honest and thankful smile from me. But all of my confidence passed and I reverted to my old ways - when Serena left for boarding school, and Nate started to act strange and my father left us for a male model.

Now seven years later, my naked body's cuddled against his. My hand and head are on his chest and his arm is around me.

It feels right.

I feel his lips on the top of my head. He's awake. I look up to him, still thinking about that incident.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks sleepily, while stroking my arm with his hand.

"Remember the day when you saw me in all my glory for the first time?" I ask straight to the point, knowing that I'm pulling out an unopened book from the past, which was covered with dust. He won't remember or at least he'll have initial difficulties.

"You mean when you told me that I should immediately leave your room, while I was admiring your red silk underwear on the chair, imagining how they would look on you? But we both know that I received a better show from you." He says and chuckles slightly, making me hit him playfully on the chest. I smile.

"You never told me why you came over." I finally say.

"I wanted to check on you. You weren't at school the day before and I was kind of worried." He answers honestly and it melts my heart. I know better than to tease him with this confession, which only tells me that he always cared about me, and place a soft, but meaningful kiss on his lips. More than words could ever tell. "Thank you." I say.

"For what?" He asks unknowing of the effect he has on me – and maybe always had.

"For making me feel this way." I reply.

_Wanted. Beautiful. Worthy._

He pulls me closer and I breath in his irresistibly scent, thinking that I'm glad that Chuck Bass was the first in more than just one way.

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**A/N:** Thanks for reading. :)


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